A Surprise Visist
by Teardrops and Roses
Summary: Fred's been recalling a few memories while Daph's at her last year of college, out of state. Fred's almost completely ooc Daphne's partially. In all honesty, I'm not happy with this, but maybe you will be...that's why it's up here.


Well, I basically discarded all my knowledge of Scooby-doo (a very hard thing for me to do) in order to write a less cartoon-ish feel to the characters of this fanfic. I hope that there may be some who enjoy it as much as they have my others. I'm thinking of having this as a oneshot; yet if the reviews are good enough, or perhaps it is requested I'll continue this. Anyhow, here's my first one-shot story. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

A young man of twenty-two years sat upon a black leathered couch, the noise of the television were drowned out by the thoughts which plagued his mind. ... The thoughts about her, the one girl who had not seen for nearly three years. Sure, they still talked and he had wanted to visit her while she was away at college, but he had never managed to. Their weekly phone call was the one moment that he had looked forward to every day for the past three years of his life.

After not much deliberation, he moved from the location of the living room to the fully furnished bedroom. He had only purchased the house a month before this very date and wished that it would soon become a home, instead of a mere house. As he passed down the hall he noted the nearly empty room. A small bed, the one which his father had custom built for his son's birth laid within it. He could only dream of ever having a son of his own, or even a daughter. A child, from the most beautiful woman he had ever known was only but a mere dream. Though he knew he did not merely like her as he once had, he found himself in love with her, yet so much so, that he feared her reaction.

As he came within the confines of his own room, he looked about and then to the desk near the far left corner. As he reached it, he pulled out a pen from the side drawer and took up a medium sized notebook of green binding. Opening it, he read an inscription, written in nothing less but purple ink and cursive writing:

"To the best friend a girl could ever have... You are my supporter in times of angst and comforter in times of tears. Throughout all the years of our friendship, you've been my rescuer. Thanks for all the times we've had. I'll miss you, but I know that we'll never loose touch. Love always, Daphne. P.S. I know that you love to write, and I hope that this book has more than enough pages to write about your thoughts, dreams, and whatever else you may think up."

At that very moment the man's voice came out, though only in a half tone for he did not mean to say his thoughts aloud. "Why did you have to go off to college in another state?"

He sat there, twiddling the pen within his hands until he was unable to suppress his feelings any longer. Noting the blank pages that filled the book, he placed the point of his pen upon the blank sheet and his hand seemed to flow gracefully across it without his realization of the words being shown before him. Soon enough he was interrupted by a knock upon the door and he set the book down, not bothering to place it back away. Coming out of the room and making his way through the hall again he heard the knocking growing steadily louder.

"Shagg, is that you?" he asked right before his hand touched the door knob, not used to any visitor's other than his long-time friend and school alumni, Norville "Shaggy" Rogers.

"Oh, that hurts, Mr. Jones," mockingly pouted a young woman, twenty-one years old, who stood in his doorway as he opened the door.

"Daphne?" he stated in shock as he started, partially in awe, at the gorgeous strawberry blonde who stood before him.

"Hey Freddie," she stated.

For a moment, it was obvious, she was timid, unaware of how he would react but the next moment took all her fears away. With one quick swoop he placed his arms under her own and gave her a strong hug, picking her off the ground as he did so, twirling her a bit, as well. That moment also reminded the two of their height difference, though it was not nearly what it once was. She giggled, slightly as she placed her chin upon the broad shoulder he gave off. She missed him, more than she had ever admitted to her best 'gal-pal', Velma Dinkley.

As he set her down their positions had changed and the young woman was now inside the house. She sighed, softly, not wishing that the release would come as soon as it had. Though she did realize something that seemed to happen many times when they were younger; his hand had taken a gentle hold of her own. He stepped into the household, turning about to shut the door, yet continuing to keep her hand in a gently grasp.

"Y-you look amazing!" Fred stated, spinning the young woman about in a dance-like move.

She laughed and playfully hit him, "Not to bad yourself, stranger."

"No, really. You look so different from when you left; you're gorgeous!" Receiving a playful glare he rolled his eyes and stated, "You know what I mean, Daphne." Then, after a moment of consideration, he cocked his head to the side and looked to her dark aqua-colored eyes. "Wait a second, I haven't sent you my new address, how did you find me?"

"That's right, you didn't." Her tongue stuck out in a childish manner at him as she then took it back and continued, "First I went to your parents house, and after a little talk with them they told me to come here. So, can I see the place?" She questioned, already able to tell that this was no one-room flat, but in fact a rather decent sized, almost picturesque, house.

"Yeah, I meant to, but you never know if someone's scanning the calls or something. Anyhow, come on, it's not much, but, maybe you'll like it." Was his response.

Keeping his hand wrapped around her own, he made their way into the kitchen, complete with a nook. Next they walked into the hallway, which was not quite large yet by no means small. A bathroom was passed, an office was seen, and a game room holding a pool table was also looked into. With only two rooms at the end of the corridor, Daphne's head peeked into the room with Fred's first bed.

"Oh, Freddie, it's so cute." Daphne commented as she walked over, her spare hand caressing the oak-wood crib. "Wait a minute," she twirled almost instantly upon her feet, a mixture of emotions catching her, which she attempted to downplay as she stated her next words. "Is this for? I mean, you don't have a? Is there a certain someone you haven't told me about during these past three years?"

Those few seconds and fleeting words from her mouth almost knocked the wind of him. Why she would ever think that he would not tell her about someone so important in his life was absurd to him. Yet, so was the fact that she could ever think that the one person he would ever dream about having a child with would be anyone but her. He let out a laugh, containing both nervousness and obvious givings that her thoughts were wrong, to which she blushed.

"No, nothing like that!" His free hand, raising in a motion as if to declare this fact prominently.

"Well I would hope not," Daphne stated whishing that she had not.

True enough, as much as both members enjoyed each others company, growing to love the other, both were terribly frightened of what might happen if they confessed. Even still, while in Jr. High their next-to-best-friends, Shaggy and Velma, were well aware of this and were constantly teasing the others in front of the group. Due to this fact there was many a time when Fred would jokingly flirt with Daphne and she, play along or the other state a not-so-joking-joke as Fred did so next.

"I always knew you loved me, Daph. Admit it, no one can resist this," he stated with a brightened smile and cocky flair.

Glad that she did not have to go through the embarrassment of her thoughts slipping to her tongue, she merely looked at him with an 'as if' facial expression.

"Oh trust me, Freddie, I know plenty who could," she added with a flirtatious gleam in her eye.

For the first time since she had arrived she slipped her hand out of his own and made her own way into the final room, Fred's. He remained within the room where he wished a child of his own to sleep in one day, slightly shocked at how much appearances may change (definitely for the better) yet personalities do not have to as well. Back in his own room, Daphne slid upon the bed, her apparel of a purple sweater, for the time being autumn, and blue jeans making it quite easy to climb upon the high positioned, King-sized, bed. She had noted the book she had given him and taken it into her own hands, believing that Fred would not mind, for as well as she knew, he spoke every word of his thoughts to her.

"Today I walked into the supermarket, the Christmas lights and other decorations are already being sold. It reminded me that I can't always explain what I feel. Though I haven't seen her, in what feels like a life-time, her face remains forever ingrained in my mind. When I hear the ways of her voice, matured and beautiful no doubt, yet playful nonetheless, I recall the memories of our childhood games. I envision her face, aqua marine eyes, seeming to search my soul as if she knows the very secret I have always hidden from her. The stands of strawberry blonde hair, holding its name-sake's scent. Her porcelain skin, which no angel can compete with, reminds myself of the touch we shared.

The touch at one Christmas-time evening I will never forget. Her, naturally rose colored, lips were purple from the cold; her body stood net to my own, shivering as we sang carol's in the snow. I took of my coat and placed it upon her shoulders, her arms eventually sliding in; it was far too big for her, yet she looked as beautiful as ever. At that moment her eyes reached my own, sparkling as they always seemed to, even when she's crying. I could not help but smile while gazing into them. Making our way back to my parent's house we found the dark night sky to show off the crystal-like clusters of stars, not nearly as beautiful as the one's within her eyes.

Reaching the house, the warmth of the fire was both romantic and relaxing as it helped defrost us from the evenings events. She was insistent upon baking cookies, an excellent cook she had always been, so none protested. As I walked into the kitchen after turning on the movie I was met with a gentle handful of flour. Her glorious laughter filled my ears as I wiped it from my face; it had left almost as abruptly as it came. Soon from the kitchen playful screams were heard as I picked her off the ground, taking a handful of flour in my own and rubbing it onto her face.

I knew Shaggy and Velma would soon be coming in to see when we would be ready to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" along with them, but I didn't care. My hand had already reached the softness of her face, and once I was done with the flour I felt my thumb subconsciously caress her cheek. The Christmas lights, full of color and sparkle adorned the windows, within the sight of my peripheral vision as I looked down at her. She smiled, gently, knowing as well as I did what was to come next. My head leaned down, tilted a little more than it had been before, she was laying as perfect as angel as she ever had been within my arms, and we kissed. Innocent as it was, there has never been such a feeling in all my life.

As we parted she smiled, giggling as she so often did, though most likely at the fact of my reddened cheeks. I set her back down and she carried the cookies upon a tray out to the living room and I took the glasses of milk along with a bottle of sparkling cider and champagne glasses out upon another platter. We didn't speak to one another of the actions, yet as I took a seat next to the fire-place she took her own next to myself, her petite figure against my chest. She took my hands in her own and wrapped my arms around her as she gazed at the television screen and I, at her.

That night she had fallen asleep, both she and Velma if I am to remember correctly, and I had the task of waking an angel from slumber. "Daph," I whispered, not wanting to wake someone so peaceful. She stirred slightly in my arms and as her eyes fluttered open, she seemed to realize why I had woken her. Soon enough she was standing and the four of us stated our goodbye's to one another. As she stood at my doorstep, her butler with an awaiting limo in the drive-way, I held her hands in my own. "Goodnight, Freddie. Merry Christmas." And with that she gave me an utterly innocent kiss on the cheek; before I could respond I realized that the limo was pulling away from the drive way, she inside of it. "Goodnight, Daphne. Merry Christmas to you too...I love you," I whispered underneath my breath as I watched the limo till it rounded the corner.

Shaggy stood behind me as I did so, "You have to tell her one day, Fred," he partially scolded for not having done so that night. "I will Shaggy, one day, maybe I'll get the courage to," was my only response. As he and fellow companion, Scooby-Doo, soon left I retraced my steps back into the house, turning of the television and cleaning up the cups and empty cider glasses. I shut off the lights, and swore to myself, that day I would never forget.

Perhaps Shaggy was right, I should have told her of my feelings; but now maybe it's too late. She's been gone for so long, and I've never told her upon our phone calls, for it would be too impersonal. My heart breaks every time she states she has to get off of the phone, yet it becomes more full as I know she has crawled into bed and soon after I do not receive a response, yet the soft sound of her breathing, having fallen asleep to me speaking with her. It may be that I'm recalling the days of a sixteen-year-old boy, his first true kiss, and the girl-next-door he had developed a crush on and it's nothing more than a silly memory and to be kept in a vault with all the others. Yet, I cannot help but think, if it is only a sixteen-year-old crush than why do I still feel as if my breath is taken away from me as I speak with her, or I will second glance in a given direction for believing I see her on the street, in the mall, or even when at work.

I suppose it is because I know it's something more, more than I'd ever admit to any other than her...yet I can not even do that. I am in love with a woman who is more worthy of all the riches in the world, and I could give her nothing that she does not own other than my love. She would only laugh to read this, I might think, yet hope remains within me that I might be able to make myself something. Someone that can be her everything and give her whatever she desires, yet until then I remain silently in love with Daphne Blake."

Daphne's eyes had already formed slight tears long ago as she too recalled the Christmas night while reading his own thoughts of it. She looked up, quite aware that he had been watching her yet focusing upon the book nonetheless. He was leaning against the doorpost, eyes and face showing the expression of a toddler who has just been caught snatching a cookie from the jar.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Her voice came out different than she had meant, instead of soothingly sweet, a tremble appeared and a voice barely louder than a mouse.

Fred rushed to her side, upset that the facts she had been reading would make her so upset. He knew that there was no hope for him to ever earn her love in return for merely his own, and now found himself a fool to have even written such dreams. His hand came upon her cheek, his thumb brushing away the wet, almost crystal-like, droplets that came from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Daphne. I...I knew I never should have thought of you like this, you'll probably want to leave, and I understand if you don't want me to call every week. I just want you to know that I've never been more sorry my enti-"

His words no longer were needed and though hers were not as well, she pulled from his lips, giggling softly as she had some six years ago, partially due to the shocked look upon his face and reddened cheeks.

"I love you too, Freddie."


End file.
